


Why Can't Kate Stay Dead?

by Mekanamin02



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A made up herb, Alpha Derek, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bound, Crazy Kate Argent, Escape, Everyone Is Alive, Evil Kate Argent, Forced eating (not the kinky kind), Kidnapping, M/M, Slight torture, Stiles annoys Derek sometimes, gagged, past Kate/Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 12:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30038490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mekanamin02/pseuds/Mekanamin02
Summary: “Shut up and just tell us what you want,” Stiles’ spit out, no longer having the patience for villains’ unnecessary monolog.Kate rolled the whip and put it neatly on the stone table. She put her disgusting hand on Derek’s chest and drew a circle where Derek’s heart was beating. “I want to crush this thing. I want to squeeze it, mend it, and make it forever twisted that he’d never feel anything but pain.” She retracted her hand and continued, “Of course, I don’t mean physically, I want this man here to live. What I meant, was something like breaking his spirit through people that he loves, those that he cares. Like… par exemple, his pack.”“Haven’t you done that before though?”, Stiles asked.“Yeah. And is his spirit broken yet?”~~~Stiles was kidnapped and kept in the same room as Derek who was tied and gagged. Kate announces that she had a fun little 'game' planned for them. When the game starts, Stiles has to figure out a way to survive or else Derek would have to suffer the consequences of losing another pack.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 67





	Why Can't Kate Stay Dead?

Stiles felt his limbs swayed; his mind groggy from chloroform and his system still far from functional. He opened his eyes but everything was black which would only mean that he was blindfolded. Without the help of his muscles, Stiles finally settled with only using his senses. He listened. 

_Thud Thud Thud_

The sound of heavy boots sounded from beneath him. He was probably being carried over someone’s shoulder, he assumed. He tried to listen for anything else, like maybe for traffic or birds but only the steady thumping of the boots resonated around him. 

He then made use of his nose but nothing prominent caught his attention. God, sometimes, Stiles do regret not accepting the bite from Peter few years back. Maybe he should ask Derek to turn him when he escapes from wherever the hell he was at the moment. Stiles’ mind wandered at the thought. He chuckled inwardly, imagining Derek’s possible response to his request. He’d probably say no because he already had a hard time taking care of a hyperactive human with 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, he wouldn’t appreciate having to take care of a hyperactive werewolf on a full moon. 

Wait, Derek? 

Oh, Derek… 

His memories came back to him now. Before getting ambushed by of god knows who, the pack was trying to locate the grumpy alpha Hale. They had combed the BH preserve, made a run through the loft, stopping by at Peter’s but yet the man was nowhere to be found. So, they – Stiles, Scott, and Cora and Peter, decided it’d be less time consuming if they divide and conquer. 

Stiles had volunteered to check the school. He drove his baby blue Jeep and arrived at his high school not long after. With a bat in hand and a bolt-cutter in another, he managed to break into the school without breaking a sweat. Seriously though, the school has got to get better security. You’d think that after the numerous attacks in the school at night, they would have already set up security cameras throughout campus but no, Beacon Hills High chose to build a bronze statue of their school mascot and put it in the middle of the canteen. 

Stiles walked through classes with only the aid of the moonlight through the windows. His heart no longer erratic now, unlike when the supernatural world was still a novelty and the appearance of new creatures had sent him into nights of research fuelled by cups of coffees. He had become numb to it and much braver against them, if he’s being honest. 

First floor checked. Now, up to the second but before he could turn around the corner, somebody hit him behind the head with enough force to sent him unconscious. 

At the present, Stiles felt his head spin from the constant motion. His stomach threatened to hurl its contents but Stiles held it in as much as he could. Last he wanted was to anger his captors while still drugged and immobile. 

Few trying moments later, the man – Stiles assumed from the natural musk that occasionally penetrated his nose – stopped walking. He heard keys clanking and a door unlocked. 

They were in motion again, probably entering the room, and Stiles was thrown onto the floor with a heavy ‘thud’ like a bag of rice. Heck, even rice gets better treatment than that. He heard violent clanking of metals but Stiles paid no mind to it because now his head hurt from both motion sickness and the impact against the hard floor. He groaned in pain, trying but failing to raise his hand to sooth it. 

There was a ‘click’ and light flooded through the room. Stiles attempted to crawl into an upright position but his body still failed to bid his command. Suddenly, somebody pulled him by the hair with a vice grip and forced him to sit properly. Though hands still tied and eyes still blindfolded, Stiles was glad to be rid of the uncomfortable twist of his shoulder just a moment ago. 

The man then stepped behind Stiles and handcuffed one of his already tied hands to a pole of some sorts. For good measures maybe? Because they’re afraid Stiles the Skinny Boy would break free from the restraints. 

He heard more erratic clanking of metals in the short distance. Honestly, if Stiles wasn’t tied up and blindfolded, he would have walked over to whoever was clanking with the metals and bitch slap them across the face because the sound wasn’t doing his ringing head any favour. 

Stiles heard the man walked to his front and squatted, his knees popping from the action. He reached out and undid Stiles’ blindfold, then left the room before Stiles could get a good look at him. Stiles tentatively opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the sudden stream of light flooding in. 

The metals were still clanking. Stiles quickly turned in the direction the sound was coming from in a ready attempt to bark for the person to just _fucking stop_. Either his courage had grew along with his hair or he just plain don’t care for his safety anymore. 

His let out a small relief when he spotted the source of the sound. Of course it’s him and of course he’s naked. Everybody just wants to strip the almighty alpha naked every damn time. But well, Stiles can see why. Derek was handcuffed to a wall, hands and legs bound by shackles most probably coated in wolfsbane. He was blindfolded and wore a headphone. Whatever was playing on the headphones were likely not music, judging from the intense furrow of Derek’s eyebrows. 

Stiles tried to move, tugging on his restraints but it only made the handcuff chaff his wrist. With his movements restricted, Stiles decided the next best thing to get Derek’s attention would be to shout. 

“Derek!” 

No reply. So, Stiles tried again. 

“Derek!” 

“Derek! Sourwolf! Grumpy McGrumpy! Derek!” 

Stiles stopped trying after that, because clearly, the headphones were noise-cancelling. Whatever the headphones were playing, it was making Derek agitated as he began tugging on the restraints even harder. Stiles settled down in the end. With the werewolf’s sight and hearing hindered, Stiles was not going to get anything out of him anytime soon. So, he did what he does best. Observe and plan. He looked around the room, taking in the interior and every metallic item hung on the wall. ‘Metallic items’ as in torture devices, Stiles realised. Medieval ones, modern ones, unfamiliar ones. Stiles began counting until he reached up to 47, all hung neatly as if a proud display on the four walls. A sinking dread washed over Stiles. He was kept in a torture basement with no super werewolf healing abilities and having his sarcasm as his only defence. Derek, who had stopped struggling, was acting up again, tugging and grunting. Stiles did his best to not look at Derek. He couldn’t stand to see the alpha rendered powerless; to be stripped from his werewolf abilities that had served him well through his lifetime and also half of Stiles’ lifetime as well. He was Derek Hale, proud grumpy-old-man alpha that had Stiles weak in the knees from time to time. 

Stiles continued to let his eyes wander, noting the stone table a few ways in front of him, and a chamber pot in the corner of the room. That was all. No windows, no second door, no artilleries. He finally settled against the pole, tiredness catching up to him fast, now that he had some knowledge of sorts. The clanking of the metals ceased again and the only thing Stiles could hear was the laboured breath of his comrade’s. 

Stiles chuckled, the thought that a day would come when he’d call Derek a comrade had tickled him pink. Stiles’ eyes fluttered and rest finally overtook him. 

“See you later, Sourwolf,” he muttered softly even though Derek couldn’t hear it. It was a small promise, or a hope that when he opens his eyes later, he’d still see the pack alpha.

~~~

Derek couldn’t tell how many times he had been abducted for the past few years. He had somehow gotten use to it now. They mute his senses, take him somewhere, strip him shirtless – yes, this always included – and shackle him to wolfsbane laced restraints. He woke up with his eyes blindfolded and gagged. Why the hell would they gag him anyway? He’s Derek Hale, he grunts and growls more than he talks. 

The door creaked open and thudding boots made its way across to him. Derek took in a deep breath as discreetly as possible, because that was the last of his senses that could be of use. The smell of the person hit him like a slap across the face, and every alarm in his body went haywire; urging Derek to get the fuck out of there ASAP. 

He heard a chuckle. The sound that once had him falling head over heels now left him in distress. “I love what my presence does to you, Derek,” the vile woman laughed. 

Derek managed a growl but it came out muffled through the gag, losing its intensity. 

“I can always tell. Your shoulder tenses. Your brows furrow. Your fists grip tighter. It makes what I do much more worthwhile, sweetie.” Kate circled him, running a finger across the plane of his abdomen. “Your body will always remember me, Derek.” 

Kate circled back to the front. “I can’t tell you what I’m going to do yet BUT, I can give you a teaser,” a low laugh escaped her and she inched closer to Derek’s ear, “one of your favourite pack members is on his way here. Think what you would about that information. Now,” she walked away and came back, “here’s a little something for you to pass the time.” 

Kate placed a headphone on him, cutting out his sense of hearing. Noise-cancelling headphones, Derek realised. Then, sound began to play from it. It started with the sound of running water, and a creak from a door. 

Derek’s heart rate doubled. He knew what this was. He knew the next words that would come. A scene that had played out in his nightmares like a binding curse and right now, he had to relive every moment of it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know someone was still in here,” a younger Kate had apologised. It sounded genuine then, but now, it carried venom that made his stomach twist in knots. 

It was the first time he had met Kate at the boys’ changing room at school. She 'accidentally' walked in on him showering, catching him alone butt naked. Derek yelped and hurried to get his towel. Though embarrassed, he remembered he felt other emotions stir in him then. An attraction for an older woman. Young boys like those - older women, that is. They make the immature boys feel big and confident; a fascination that childish as they may be, they were able to charm someone that had much more experience. 

In his heated struggle to shake free the headphones, Derek hadn’t realised that Kate had left the room. Her smell a passing linger now. Derek slumped against his restraints. He finally understood why she had gagged him. To keep him from talking to himself in an attempt to drown out the sound from the headphones. Derek wanted to curse to the Gods but he had no time for that. Kate mentioned that one of his pack members were on his way over, and he wondered who. You might call him a biased alpha but Derek really hoped it wasn’t Stiles. The boy didn’t have supernatural abilities. He’s frail, he hurts, he cares and he always, always put his friends above all else. It’s like he never realised that he was the one without super strength and senses. He isn’t aware of how much his packmates worry about him always swinging his bat left and right without proper aim. 

A hard grunt came from the headphones. Derek had no idea how much time he had spent thinking about Stiles and his ridiculous bat, though he knew what moment the headphone was playing. His first sexual act with Kate. 

Fuck, that bitch actually recorded this as well… 

As Derek listened to the audio, he wondered if Kate had really recorded every last one of their encounters through the months. From the adrenaline rushing rendezvouses to the seductive whispers of a promised future that they would share. Maybe everything was in there. After what felt like forever, the last of Kate’s sentence rang through before she burned down the Hale house the next day. Derek’s relief was short lived though, when the audio repeated all over again at the locker room. On the third replay, Derek decided to count the seconds, from the first word to the last and gauge how long one turn lasted. That had somehow kept him busy for a while. 

On the sixth replay, the smell in the room shifted. He perked up a little, his sense of smell sprang into action and the worst of his dread came crashing down on him. Apart from the one unfamiliar smell of another person, he sensed and knew the ambrosial mix of honeyed fruit and elderflower. It’s enticing most of the time but not now. Derek struggled in his restrains. He wanted to break free. He wanted to crawl to Stiles and protect him. Protect his packmate. 

When the shackles around his hands showed no sign of giving, Derek settled down. He decided he should stop panicking because it’d only make the human panic. The man probably had removed Stiles’ blindfold because the smell of relief filled the air. Just as quickly as it came, it went and replaced by desperation. Worry rose from Derek’s stomach again, and again, the alpha in him stirred to pry loose of the restraints. Fuck, he really wanted to hear Stiles’ voice, to at least be certain of Stiles’ condition. The smell of desperation went away shortly after that. Derek relaxed. Then another pungent smell of fear permeated from Stiles’ and yet again, Derek got agitated. Ok, seriously, this back-and-forth dance has gotten a little too fast paced for Derek’s liking. 

Not long after that, there were no more spikes in Stiles’ chemosignals. They must have been left alone now. In the dark with only the hint of Stiles’ smell around him, Derek realised that since Stiles’ entrance into the room and few hours ago when he thought about the teenage boy and his unnerving selflessness, he had paid no mind to the indecent words from the headphones. Every taunt and laughter from Kate were nothing but a distant white noise that hurt no more than a small cut. Derek chuckled to himself. Good job, Anchor. 

~~~

When Stiles came to, he heard the loud slash of a whip first before his eyes could register. Then, another loud one. 

“Oh, looks like our hyperactive boy finally decided to wake up,” a woman said. Her voice sent a shiver down his spine and made his skin crawl. He knew this voice. It always digs up all the distasteful vocabularies that Stiles’ head could find. “Well, nice to see you again too, Stiles.” 

Stiles glared at her then he looked beside her where Derek was panting, five whip lashes across his abdomen.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. They’ll heal, just like all the other ones two hours ago.” She pointed at one of the healing gashes and pushed her finger into it, making the wound open once again. Derek grunted through his gag, his face scrunched tight in pain and beads of sweat trickle down his forehead. “See? This one will close up again in probably another three minutes.” 

Derek wasn’t wearing the headphones anymore and the blindfolds were off as well. Stiles shouted for her to stop. She all but added a few more good whips onto the werewolf’s body. “Worried about your alpha? Come on, you should worry about yourself first, Stiles baby boy. He’ll heal. You won’t. Aren’t you afraid what I’d do to you?” 

Derek’s head shot up and he gave her a hard glare that translated to ‘Don’t you dare’. 

“Ah, see? Even little Derek here is worried for you.” 

“Shut up and just tell us what you want,” Stiles’ spit out, no longer having the patience for villains’ unnecessary monolog. 

Kate rolled the whip and put it neatly on the stone table. She put her disgusting hand on Derek’s chest and drew a circle where Derek’s heart was beating. “I want to crush this thing. I want to squeeze it, mend it, and make it forever twisted that he’d never feel anything but pain.” She retracted her hand and continued, “Of course I don’t mean physically, I want this man here to live. What I meant, was something like breaking his spirit through people that he loves, those that he cares. Like… par exemple, his pack.” 

“Haven’t you done that before though?”, Stiles asked. 

“Yeah. And is his spirit broken yet?” 

Stiles gave her an unbelievable look, like he couldn’t believe she had so much time in her hands just to make someone miserable. “Why are you so fixated on him anyway? Haven’t you notice what a downer he is? No sense of humour, poor conversationalist, just- come on, get over him already.” 

Derek raised his head to shoot the boy a glare. ‘Really? We’re trapped and you’re still dissing me?’ 

“Stilinski, humans don’t grow out of the things they love. When you’re young, you see its beauty. You obsessed over it until it gets boring, so you keep it stashed away. But few years later when you revisit memory lane, you’ll realise it’s still as beautiful as the first time you saw it. This little Hale pup here, is my ‘childhood toy’.” 

Stiles raised his eyebrows incredulously, “You’d want to destroy something you love?” 

Kate shrugged her shoulders. “‘Love’ is too strong of a word but what can I say? I’m fucked up.” 

Both Stiles and Derek shared a look. ‘Lol, no shit Sherlock.’ 

“Ok, so just to be clear. All this,” Stiles drew a circle with his head, “is to what… make Derek miserable again? Not some de-aging ritual or getting information about something whatsoever?” 

Kate smiled. “Yes, Stiles. And it’s going to be fun.” 

Stiles gave the information some thought, “So you’re going to kidnap every one of the betas plus Scott and keep us all tied up in here so Derek can slash us up with his claws like sashimis?” 

Kate made her way to Stiles’ side. Derek pulled against his restraints, as if trying to get that woman to change her attention to himself instead but to no avail. 

“Stiles, you really are always hungry for information, aren’t you? Why don’t we spice things up this time? You,” she ran a slow finger down Stiles’ cheek and Derek growled, “don’t have all the answers this time. I want to see you adapt in the moment. Well, have fun talking to Derek,” she said and left the room. 

Stiles looked at Derek. His wounds were mostly healed now, to Stiles’ relief and his laboured breath had slowed to a normal rhythm. 

“Hey, you feeling ok? Did they poison you with wolfsbane or something?”, Stiles asked. 

Derek shook his head. 

“I don’t have my wallet nor my cell. I wonder whether Scott and the others had realised I’m missing too. No, wait, maybe they’ve been kidnapped as well. Maybe she kept them in separate eerie-ass dungeons. Ok, I really don’t like this game, Kate!”, Stiles shouted but there was no reply. He liked having the whole picture, not just part of them. The blue-print, the pencils, the marking on the papers, they help him devise his plan. And most of the time, if the villain liked to hear their own voices, Stiles could easily goad them to reveal something, if not everything. Not Kate though, she’s smarter than the rest, frustratingly so. 

Stiles lifted his head to see Derek’s eyelids struggle to stay open. How long had the man been denied sleep? “Derek, get some sleep.” 

The alpha shook his head. “Derek, you need sleep. Your eyes can’t even stay open anymore.” 

Derek shook his head in response again. 

“Derek, sleep. Why the hell are you so stubborn anyway? You’re bound. You can’t break free. You’re running on fumes. You’re not helping anyone like this.” 

Derek glared at him, as if a threatening plea to ask Stiles to shut up for one minute. His head was woozy and with the incessant chatter from the chatterbox, Derek’s head was beginning to hurt. 

“What? You want me to shut up? Sure, if you fall asleep, then I will. How about it? Sounds enticing isn’t it? Killing two birds with one stone. You get sleep and also peace of mind.” Seriously, if he had to, Stiles would just continue blabbering on until Derek find the deal a good enough bargain just to get him to stop talking. 

“Derek, I don’t want you dying in this dungeon before me, ok? Come on, I can’t stand looking at your abs now,” Derek heard Stiles’ heart skip a beat, “what makes you think I would want to see it rotting? Just go to sleep. Take a quick nap and hey, if something comes up, I’ll wake you.” 

Derek shook his head. No, he can’t sleep. He had to be on alert at all times. He knew Kate and he knew what she could do. If she closes her eyes and pick one torture devices hung on the wall and use it on Stiles while he himself was asleep, it’d be too late to save the human. At least being awake, he could try to attract Kate’s attention away from Stiles. Skinny, defenceless Stiles that could be inflicted with mortal wounds and die from a wound infection. 

“Why Derek? Why don’t you want to sleep?” 

Stiles held his eyes; worry tainting his features and covered the room with a sour smell. See? This is Stiles. Always worrying, always slithering into Derek’s heart to get him to open up. 

“Are you afraid that the nightmares would come back?” This was a genuine question. 

Derek shook his head. 

“Are you scared that you can’t protect me?” 

Derek stilled. Stiles caught on. “I don’t need you protecting me 24/7, Derek. And besides, you can’t because… remember? You’re restrained? Plus, if I were as weak as you think, believe me, I’d have been dead like aaaaages ago.” Stiles chuckled, relieved that he had nailed the problem at its heart. 

“Sleep, Derek. I’ll be fine.” 

Derek looked into the honey eyes, and it reminded him why Stiles had so easily replaced anger as his anchor. Stiles’ safety worries him but at the same time, the human is able to set him at ease, to ground him to his humanity. Stiles knows what to say, which buttons to push and which area he could touch to offer comfort. All those were things anger couldn’t achieve. He let out a deep sigh and shot Stiles a warning with his eyebrows. 

“Yes, yes. I’ll scream for you when I’m in danger. Now go to sleep.” 

Derek let his head roll to the side and rest on his shoulder. Sleep came to him eventually. 

~~~

“Hey now, wakey wakey my little prisoners,” Kate said in a sing-song tune. “Had a good sleep?” 

Stiles groaned from the uncomfortable position his head had fell back but it didn’t beat Derek having to sleep with his hands raised in the air and legs spread apart. First thing Derek does when he woke up was check on Stiles, searching for any fresh injuries and smelling the air for hints of fear or struggle that came from Stiles. His inner wolf let out a sigh of relief when he couldn’t see nor smell anything out of the ordinary. 

“Dinner, is served,” she announced and placed one bowl on the table and held another in her hand. “Better fill your bellies because after this is when the fun begins.” Kate flicked her finger, motioning to a man – probably the one that was carrying Stiles - from the other side of the door to enter. He wasn’t tall, but more on the broad side. His muscles toned to the point of suppressing Derek’s and his blond hair was tied to the back to a bun. 

“You feed the one on the ground,” Kate instructed but the man looked at her incredulously. “I don’ mean to go ‘ah! The airplane is coming!’. Just pour it down his throat.” 

The man nodded his head and stepped forth to grab the bowl from the table and loomed over Stiles. Derek struggled more fiercely now. A man twice his size, thrice Stiles’ was involved now. He needed to free himself. He can’t protect, he can’t defend, not when his limbs were bound and the speckles of wolfsbane on the shackles were slowly entering his system through the wound around his wrist from the struggling. He growled at Kate, a silent threat that if she even touches one hair on the boy, he’s going to turn all psycho werewolf, rip her throat out and decorate his house with her innards. 

“Oh, shut up. He’s just going to feed him. What? You want to regurgitate your food and do it yourself? I’d be fine with that, actually.” 

“Werewolves can do that?”, Stiles asked with a mixed of curiosity and disgust. 

Everybody, even the buff-ass man turned their heads to him and gave him a look that questioned his intelligence. 

“What? He can turn into a wolf. Who knows what’s the limit?” 

Kate turned back to Derek. “What the hell do you even see in this boy?” 

It’d be easier to ask what Derek _hadn’t_ seen in Stiles. Stiles was strong. His will; his determination; his sense of justice; his love for the pack even though he himself wasn’t a werewolf. Stiles made the sun rise; he had turned Derek’s world from grey white to an explosion of colours. When he’s uncertain of his decisions, Stiles would be there, assuring him with only a look that said he believed in him; in the alpha he had chosen to follow. Stiles didn’t like to openly show that he cares. He doesn’t walk up to the others – well, except Noah – and go ‘Hey, I’m worried about you. What’s wrong?’. However, he’d show up at your doorstep with a laptop and a bunch of food, then grumble an excuse that Scott was busy with Allison or studying so he had no one to annoy. He’d sit on the couch with his laptop and just be there. A silent company and a shoulder to carry the extra weight of Derek’s burdens if Derek were to ever confide in him. 

Derek could go on and on about Stiles, seriously. 

“Stop it. The smell is stinking the place up,” Kate hissed, rolling her eyes. Derek took a deep breath and sure enough, he could smell his own chemosignals. The fresh smell of fruits; of affection. _His_ affection for Stiles. 

The man raised Stiles’ chin and pry his lips open but Stiles shook free from his grasp. “What are you feeding us?”, he asked, cautious not anger the man nor Kate. 

“Porridge,” Kate answered while untying Derek’s gag. With his teeth now free and bare, Derek rush forth in an attempt to attack Kate’s arm but she backhanded him across his face. 

“Fuck, Derek!”, Stiles shouted with worry. 

Kate pointed a clawed finger at Stiles. “If you aren’t docile, that skinny boy would be the one to pay. Your choice, Der-bear.” 

Derek let out a low growl, the ferocity of it had Kate grinning, as if that was what she had wanted. 

“Good. Now open wide up. This thing is just gonna slide down your throat so better turn off your gag reflex.” She had to simultaneously pry open Derek’s mouth and pour the food in but it wasn’t going as smoothly as she had imagined. So, she motioned for the man to give her a hand. He complied and stepped over to hold Derek’s mouth open. 

Derek could feel the clumps of porridge slide down his throat, a little too hot to his liking but not unbearable. He tried hard not to gag on it, letting his esophagus relax as much as he could manage. The food was bland and it did nothing more than just fill his stomach so he would have the energy for the ‘fun’ later that Kate had mentioned earlier. 

When the bowl was empty, the man released his grasp on Derek’s cheeks and moved towards Stiles. 

“Did you poison it?”, Stiles asked. 

“I put my undying ‘love’ for Derek into it. Does that count?”, Kate answered sarcastically. 

“Yeah. I’m gonna die from food poisoning then, I guess.” 

Kate grunted in frustration and grabbed the other bowl of food from the table. “Open his mouth,” she ordered to her subordinate - or slave or whatever their fucked-up relationship was. He moved to do so and Kate dumped half of it in until Stiles gagged from a particularly large lump of rice, the contents spewing out of him like an erupting volcano. Derek stilled. He could smell the irritation pooling out of the lunatic bitch and Stiles was in trouble for the mess he made. 

“That’s all you’re gonna get. Lick it up before I come back or I swear your alpha daddy right there’s gonna have some fun with me. Gag the werewolf, Leonard,” Kate all but spat out before leaving. Leonard did as he was told and later exited the room with two bowls in hand. 

Stiles gulped the last of the porridge down his throat and banged his head against the pole behind him for his incompetence. Without hesitation, he delved down, ready to lick clean the floor but Derek’s shackles clattered endlessly loud. He looked up to meet Derek’s green-hued eyes, wide with dismay. The werewolf shook his head aggressively, dissuading Stiles of his decision. 

“I can’t let her hurt you,” Stiles said to him. “This much is nothing compared what she might do to you. And I can’t just sit here and let her do whatever the shit she wants with you while knowing that I had an alternative to prevent that.” 

Derek continued to struggle in his restraints when Stiles lowered as much as he could to suck up the food like children trying to suck soup up from the surface, imitating cartoon characters. With most of the big spots slightly cleaned, he shot Derek a look. “Would you stop struggling? You’re going to rub your wrists raw!” 

Derek returned a glare. He kept repeating a circling motion with his legs as if trying to communicate something to the human. “Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?”, Stiles wondered aloud and his features scrunched up with impatience. Derek rolled his eyes. He tipped his head towards Stiles’ shoes, like a chicken pecking on worms. 

“Oh. Oh! Shit why didn’t I think of that? That would have saved me a lot of embarrassment!” 

Derek rolled his eyes again. The man might be gagged but his facial features really do serve him well communication-wise. Stiles quickly rubbed his shoe over spots that were hard to reach for his mouth and crush most of the food until they are mostly gone and thank god Kate had serve them porridge. The softness and the ease of it disintegrating really helped Stiles. 

When the floor around him was more or less spotless, Stiles looked to Derek. The alpha tipped his head, as if saying ‘You’re welcome,’ with the most sarcastic tone his face could convey. 

Half an hour later, Stiles was already bored out of his mind. He wanted to stand up and do something. To shake shit up and get things done but alas, the binding around his knees and arms only allowed very limited movements. So, he settled with the joy of annoying his pack alpha. 

“Have you watched Brooklyn 99?”, he asked suddenly. 

Derek shook his head. 

“Oh, it’s amazing. You’ll laugh your ass off. What about Friends? That one’s more for your generation.” 

Derek shook his head. 

“Really? You’ve never watched Friends? Does your loft not have cable or something? Ok fine, have you watched Teen Wolf? Please tell me you have. I mean it’s about werewolves. It’s literally about your kind!” 

Derek shot him a glare. ‘Shut up,’ he seemed to say. 

“Or what? You going to ‘rip my throat out with your teeth’? Come on, big guy. I’d love it if you could manage to do that right now.” 

Derek took a deep breath, as if in an attempt to ease the irritation in him. Of all the people, Kate just had to kidnap Stiles and confine them together. Stiles’ inability to heal was one problem, but his incessant talking really further dampen the already stressful situation they were already in. Boyde… why hadn’t she kidnap Boyde instead? 

Well, whatever. At least Stiles was still talking. He’d be more worried if the boy wasn’t. Worried and terrified, to be exact. 

At that moment, the door unlocked and Kate entered with a vial of red powder. “Hello, my little piggies. Fed and energised, let’s get the game started, shall we?” 

“Do we look energised to you?”, Stiles asked. 

“Well, you’ve been talking your alpha’s ears off so, I’d say yes.” 

Stiles was ready to retort but he chose not to. “Bitch,” he muttered under his breath. 

Kate lifted the vial to Stiles to let him see it. “This, is the crushed powder of the Middlemist Red flower. You know what it does to werewolves, little Stiles?” 

“Do I look like the Wikipedia to you?” 

“You’re right, sorry. You’re more of a megaphone,” Kate said with an understanding nod of her head. She turned to Derek, and a sly smile crept its way up her lips when his eyes widened in horror when he realised what Kate was planning. “Ok, here are some little details. The plant is extremely rare because hunters had overexploited it until near extinction. This beautiful, red flower is the most powerful and effective weapon against a werewolf. It’d make the werewolf turn against their own pack. Killing the people he care and working his way down until he killed the last person he cherishes. That’s like getting the werewolf to do the hunter’s job for him. How convenient is that?” 

Stiles stared at her, livid that such a flower would be used on innocent werewolves that went on to kill more innocent people. He looked to Derek and the terror held in the alpha’s eyes was making him fear for his own life as well. Kate wasn’t kidding. She really was going to make Derek kill every last one of the people he loves. 

“No,” Stiles muttered under his breath, his heart throbbing in his ears, loud and alarming. 

“Oh, yes, sweetie. I’ll give you one little tip. To undo the effect, you just have to use his anchor on him. Do you know what’s Derek Hale’s anchor, Stiles?”

Stiles raised his brows. What stupid question is that? “Everybody knows it’s anger,” he answered. Derek’s heart dropped. No, he had to warn Stiles. Anger wasn’t his anchor anymore. He was. Stiles was! The boy was too focused on Kate and the desperation in Derek’s eyes were lost on Stiles. 

Kate tried to suppress a grin. “Yes, stupid question, I guess.” She walked over to Stiles and unlocked his chains. “Now, you better run, little piggie. Try not to let the wolf catch you.” With his hands untied, Stiles reached out to land a blow on the hunter but Kate caught it easily. “I’m giving you a head start and this is the thanks I get?” 

“I’m not leaving Derek alone here with you, you bitch,” Stiles spat. 

Kate pointed a finger in Derek’s direction. “See how desperate he is? That’s him telling you to run.” 

Derek had been shaking his head. Yes, he wanted Stiles to get the fuck out of here but he had to clear up the misunderstanding first. Stiles would die out there by his hands if Derek doesn’t get his message across. He kept shaking his head, trying to tell Stiles that anger wasn’t his anchor but then Kate had pointed to him and he can’t shake his head anymore. That’d only make Stiles think that he didn’t want Stiles to leave him behind. 

Stiles looked to Derek, uncertainty on his face. Derek took in the beautiful curve of Stiles’ cheekbone, the honey brown eyes that leave him breathless and that slender figure he had always imagined fitting perfectly in his arms. Derek prayed that Stiles’ intelligence would help him this time before it’s too late; to help him figure out that anger wouldn’t work on him before Derek tear him to shreds. 

Finally, Derek motioned to the door with his chin, urging Stiles to go, to run. 

Stiles stood up quickly, albeit a little woozy from the lack of use of his legs. He kept his eyes trained on Derek’s, taking small steps at a time as if it physically hurt him to leave his alpha behind. Kate didn’t interject in their goodbye because Stiles was going to die and she figured she’d be nice for once. 

Derek pointed his chin to the door again. 

“Derek, it won’t be your fault,” Stiles said and tears moistened his eyes, burning them. “It won’t be your fault if you really kill me out there. It won’t be your fault if you take down the others as well. You’ll be under the influence, it’s not you, please remember that.” 

Stiles stood his ground, unwilling to leave until Derek agrees. Reluctantly, Derek nodded though its sincerity was nowhere to be found. Stiles accepted it anyway. “Tell my dad I love him,” Stiles said and turned to run. 

“Take your bat with you on the way out!”, Kate shouted but added in a softer voice, "Not like it's gonna help you much anyway." When Stiles’ footsteps retreated out the door and away far enough, Kate made her way to Derek. She burst out laughing, thoroughly pleased at how well her plan was going. “This is going to be so fun, Der-bear! How the hell does he not know he’s your anchor now?” She undid Derek’s gag and the most animalistic growl escaped him. 

“Is this why you only kidnap Stiles?” 

Kate giggled in glee, finally able to lay out her plans. “Yes. If you kill him first - your anchor, there’d be no way to undo the effect. You’d practically become a killing machine, slicing every last one of your betas.” 

She moved to uncap the vial and pour some onto her palms. She blew it onto Derek’s face. Few seconds later, Derek was panting, snarling; his claws and canine extending to their full length. He pulled against the restraints, as if impatient to be free from them and run at full speed to start his own form of hunting. 

“Now, let the fun begin,” Kate said with a satisfactory smile. She undid the shackles and Derek fell to the ground. He stood up, red eyes trained at the door, unmoving, letting his limbs adapt to being used first. Then, he turned his attention to Kate. With a successful swing of a claw, he slashed her throat. Kate fell back to lean against the table, giving him questioning looks. There was no fucking way he cared for Kate. 

“You forgot one thing,” Derek said before shifting back to human. He smirked down at the woman, happy that his ruse was a success. “The flower doesn’t take effect after 3 minutes.” 

Kate groaned in frustration. Fuck, she messed up! 

“Wait, I can find Stiles and tell him the truth! If you spare me, I can chain you up again a-.” Kate fell silent when Derek tore through her stomach with his claws and crack her head by knocking it against the stone table. He could feel his humanity slipping at an alarming rate. Kate wouldn’t be able to hook one of his arms fast enough before he turns. That’d mean he would still be free and she would still be alive. At least like this, she’d be gone forever from his life. 

“You better stay dead this time, you psychotic bitch,” Derek cursed. The pounding in his head began shortly after and he could feel himself losing control to his wolf as the seconds go on. His claws and fangs grew, his eyes blood red and his mind clouding. Short hard pants raced out of him, and he struggled to keep his mind focused to fight the flower’s effect. “No, fuck…”, he cried in fear. Fear for Stiles’ life; fear for his packmates’ life. Then, as if a string had snapped in him, his wolf took over, out to hunt for blood. 

Stiles ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The bat in his hand was light, thank god and it wouldn’t be a liability to carry it with him. He contemplated his options. To hide or to fight? He knew Derek with his werewolf senses would be able to sniff in on his location so maybe it’d increase his chances of surviving if he stood up and fight. 

The sun had set now. The woods eerily dark and cold. He supposes it’d be better to avoid bumping Derek at an open space. He needed trees and leaves as distraction, small spaces that he could fit in and out of reach from Derek’s claws. Then he’d use the chance to talk Derek’s ears off, to annoy him and make him angry. 

‘Yes, that’s a good plan, Stilinski!’, he patted his own shoulder. 

Ok, now instead of constantly running from Derek, he needed to lure him to the place more benefitting for himself. Stiles stood and think. How could he attract Derek and still be able to see the man coming? Then, he saw trees. So many surrounding him, protruding up from the ground and waving at the moon. Stiles proceeded to climb one of them and oh my god at the moment he really thanked his ADHD. Being a little child with ADHD meant he really had a hard time staying still. He’d ask his mom - who was a housewife, to bring him to a waterfall to play; he’d ask her to teach him how to catch spiders; how to climb trees; how to make chocolate chip cookies. He’d be at constant motion and he was thirsty for knowledge. And recently, he’d realised that it paid off. 

He had learnt his grandma’s secret, scrumptious chocolate chip cookie recipe and make it for Derek when he visits the grumpy wolf. Derek might act annoyed by his unannounced visits but he’d always eat the cookies with the most delighted expression his facial muscles could muster. Then he had learnt basic swimming skills and saved Derek from drowning during the kanima attack at the school swimming pool. He was also able to help Scott with his surprise asthma attack using the placebo effect – something he had read online when he got bored from doing nothing for 1 minute. 

Stiles reached the first branch, high enough that if Derek raise his hand, he wouldn’t be able to grab him but not too high that he'd break a few bones jumping off of it. He needed an escape route in case, by some miracle, the werewolf was able to climb trees as well. Stiles heard him approaching. It was loud, the thumping of Derek’s boots against hard ground. Then, Stiles saw him. Broad shoulders, muscles flexing to tear through branches, and honestly, Derek really was a treat for his eyes. 

Derek sniffed around, using his nose to the best of its abilities. He looked around, wondering where the fuck was his target even though he smelled so close. Then, his eyes shot up and met Stiles’. A chill ran down Stiles’ spine, almost making him lose his grip on the tree trunk. He cursed and quickly retightened his arms around it.

Derek approached the tree Stiles was holding onto like his life depended on it – which it was – and he began slashing his way through the tree bark. Stiles winced, imagining the pain of Derek’s fingers across the wood and the splinters that would decorate his palms at the end. Like an oversized koala, Stiles hung on, careful not to slip and fall onto the ground headfirst. 

“Derek!”, he shouted. “Derek, remember the stain on your couch few months ago? I was the one who stained it! I know you blamed Peter for it and I let you because he wasn’t around.” He was trying to pull forth Derek’s anger but he didn’t exactly know the most effective way to do so. 

There was no reaction. So, Stiles tried harder. “I was the one who scratched your Camaro!” 

No reaction. God, he never knew Derek’s anger limit was so high. The man was practically scowling every damn day. 

“Scott and I were the ones who toilet papered the Hale house during Halloween few years back!” 

Still nada. He had one more bullet in his chamber but he really didn’t want to use it. Not when Derek was finally – kinda – able to live with the guilt. The Hale fire and Kate’s abuse over him. No, he couldn’t use it. His mouth just couldn’t form the words. 

“We…uh, I actually don’t like your cooking! It needs less salt, man!” 

Derek stopped. Final-fucking-ly! Stiles whooped and pumped his fists into the air. God, he never knew Derek’s cooking skills were so important to the man. Stiles was ready to jump down from the tree when Derek raised his head and looked around, as if checking out the surroundings. And shit, he really was checking out the surroundings! 

Derek leaped from a boulder and hung himself onto a brunch. He twisted his body a full circle and landed on his legs upright, making the leaves at the end rustle. Stiles watched in awe at the werewolf's strength, his movements gracious. God, he’d be so turned on right now if his life wasn’t currently on the line. 

As if woken from the trance, Stiles realised that the next leap would be onto the branch he was currently perched on. He scrambled quickly to jump off of it and landed onto the ground before Derek did so. Stiles scurried off the ground and onto his feet. What's next? 

He ran, of course. He ran blindly until he heard it, the roar of tumbling waters. Oh, god bless him. It was a waterfall! He dashed in the direction of the waves, never looking over his shoulders to check for Derek because that doesn’t help. He knew Derek was fast, but he had to be faster and any distraction could be fatal. He spotted the roll of water up ahead and picked up speed but before he could exit from the forest, Derek slammed him on his side, making him fall to the ground. His head hurt from the impact and he felt like someone had smacked his side with a baton. Derek growled at him a few feet away, teeth bared at him threateningly. 

Stiles scooted back, touching around for his precious bat. Derek launched at him but fortunately, he found his weapon and swing it in the air blindly, hitting Derek in the face with a loud 'thuk'. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, and the grip of his fingers around the bat were white. Adrenaline had him rushing to his feet, and running to the stream ahead again. Quickly, he threw his shirt onto the ground and dived into the water. The water will wash his scent away and also loud enough to override the sound of his heartbeat. 

After a quick fix of his jaw, Derek approached the stream and looked around. His nose led him to Stiles’ shirt but not the boy himself. Then, Stiles took the chance to ambush Derek. He leaped out of the water and knocked Derek over the head with his bat again. 

“Peekaboo, Derek!” He ceased the opportunity and climbed onto the alpha, straddling him and pressing all his weight onto his knees that trapped Derek’s arms underneath. Derek trashed around, his claws slashing upwards and injure the side of Stiles’ knees. 

“I slept in your bed once when you were out because I was too tired and your bed just looked so comfortable!” Derek was still struggling, buckling his hips and snapping his teeth that was dangerously close to Stiles’ crotch. 

“Isaac once snuck into your room to borrow…wait, no, steal, your condoms because Allison was coming over and he didn’t have any spared! Ok, I think you knew these because you must have been able to smell him or me… Stop snapping your teeth so fucking close to my dick, can you!?”, he screamed and lock his hand onto Derek’s neck, careful not to choke the man. 

“What makes you angry, Derek? Come on, I’m running out of ammo! You have to give me something!” 

Derek roared, loud and ferocious and it sent a wave of horror down his spine. Derek had never roared at him, he realised. Threatened to rip his throat out with his teeth? Yes. Low warning growls? Yes. But never a full roar – well, except when he was possessed by Nogi but that was different. 

Stiles comb his mind for anything else that could set the alpha off, anything at all. Oh! Lightbulb moment! There was one more. Stiles raised his other hand and curl it into a fist. “Please let this work…”, he hoped and landed a blow across Derek’s face. It didn’t do anything at first, so he tried again. Besides, he had the upper hand now, and the chances to smack Derek (within good reason) never come to him much. So, at least he should be granted a little fun from this madness of a ‘game’. 

He hit the second time. Then a third. Then a fourth. And again, until Derek’s nose and lips bled red. Before Stiles knew it, Derek had stilled; no longer struggling. Stiles took a shaky breath with his fist still in the air, ready for another round. 

“Was it fun hitting me?”, a familiar voice asked. Derek turned to look at Stiles above him. Stiles half smiled and slumped to the side and relaxed instantly onto the ground. 

“God, sourwolf, next time when your roar, make sure I’m behind you.” 

“You’re scared of my roar?” 

Stiles chuckled but didn’t reply. He’d lie but Derek could tell anyway. “Thank god it worked. Can’t believe this actually work better than the ‘I scratched your Camaro’ confession.” 

Derek whipped his head to the side and lifted his perfect eyebrows. “What the- that was you? You know ho-.”

“Bottom line is, you’re fine! You’re here and I’m still here in my entirety and Everything’s a-okay!” Stiles quickly added, cutting off his alpha. 

They laid on the grass, both hearts and lungs quick to supply oxygen. With the adrenaline leaving his body, Stiles could feel his bones rattling from the chill of the cold night and his wet-soaked body. Stiles raised a trembling hand and shouted, “I think that’s the Orion Belt! See the three stars aligned?” 

Derek hummed by way of response. 

“Are you going to hit me for hitting you?”, Stiles asked while drying his body and hair with his soiled clothes. 

“No.” Derek looked to his side and watched Stiles’ face light up when he spotted another familiar constellation. Even though Derek’s response just now lacked interest, it still didn’t stop him from sharing what he knew. Well, it never did. “That’s Cancer, I think. Or some random cluster… can’t tell.” 

The sound of the waterfall was loud but Derek couldn’t help the even louder thumping of his heart from the possibility that he could have killed the adorable human a few minutes ago; claws ripping flesh and teeth tearing organs out of a frail, mole-decorated body. So many things could have gone differently but here they were. With Stiles all in one peace and Derek's pack bonds still keeping him afloat. “Stiles,” Derek called in a quiet voice, already made up his mind.

“Yeah, Der-bear?” 

“Don’t call me that.” Because it reminds him of Kate. 

“Ok, fine. Yeah, Derek?”, Stiles asked, emphasising the ‘k’. 

“Anger’s not my anchor. You are," the alpha finally announced.

Stiles look to him, surprise apparent on his face. “Wh-when did it… What?”, he sputtered with clattering teeth, sitting up. 

“Remember that time during the Alpha Pack attack and Jennifer taking people for sacrifice?” 

Stiles nodded his head. 

“We were at the hospital. I was out cold and you hit me to wake me up. That’s when. You were doing the same thing just now.” 

Stiles couldn’t come up with a response. His mouth hung wide and he was trying to process the revelation but one thing’s for sure, Stiles Stilinski was happy. Derek could smell the scent of blueberry jam rolling off of him. 

“Well, o-ok. Cool. Um…” 

Derek put his arm across Stiles’ chest and gently tugged him to down to the ground closer to him, letting his own heat warm the other. “Don’t answer. Just shut up and look at the stars.” 

Stiles craned his head to look at the alpha. His heart picking up pace again. “Derek, you're very warm.” The werewolf didn't reply because he knew Stiles had another thing on his mind. "Derek?"

“What?” 

“Do you want to go on a date some time?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first Sterek and I hope I was able to match original Stiles' level of sarcasm.  
> If you're interested in reading the meta post for 'when did Stiles become Derek's anchor', try this link.  
> https://cupidsbower.tumblr.com/post/86202796600/dereks-anchor  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and leave a comment down below. It'd be much appreciated. :)


End file.
